


Beloved Wallflower

by flamehazelollipop



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Also I just wanted to experiment, Angst, Blood and Violence, But here you go, Charwallastor, Domestic Violence, F/M, Multi, Other, This is sad please be warned, Tragedy, Wallsexual, Why did I write an angsty fic of a crack ship, what am I doing with my life, why am I doing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23715865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamehazelollipop/pseuds/flamehazelollipop
Summary: Oh, beloved. I’ve missed you so.A tragic story of a man who fell in love with a wall and a wallflower.We laugh at the mere thought of it, that this red-clad deer demon was more than fascinated with the pristine, concrete structure, but what was really the reason behind such feelings?
Relationships: Alastor/Charlie Magne, Charlie/Alastor/Wall, Wall/Alastor
Comments: 29
Kudos: 53





	Beloved Wallflower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MuseValentine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuseValentine/gifts).



> WARNING! Very graphic depictions of violence. Please read with caution. 
> 
> God, Twitter has tainted me so much that I couldn't help it. I was literally dying from laughter from the fact that Wallastor was a thing---and then I saw Charwallastor?! AND THEN THIS HAPPENED. I ONLY PLANNED THIS TO BE LIKE A REALLY SHORT FIC THEN I END UP WITH LIKE 9 PAGES. I don't know if anyone would read this, but if you do, please take this with a grain of salt xD I wanted to experiment, to see if I can make something odd into something sad hahaha! 
> 
> Thank you to MuseValentine for such an idea.

_ Oh, beloved. I’ve missed you so. _

  
  


Walking down his favorite, discreet alleyway, a certain red-clad deer demon softly hummed as he dragged a single finger along the wall. This particular alley was almost always deserted, albeit the trait mostly attributed to his intimidating nature and unspoken threats towards sinners who dared step foot on territory that he had claimed. 

Arriving at his destination, he brought himself to a stop. Turning to the left, his eyes met with the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Pristine, alluring, and most of all, tangible. He never knew he was able to feel such...strong emotions for something, but apparently there were always ironic exceptions in this supposedly wretched underworld. Pressing his face into it, both hands gently placed atop, he sighed contentedly.

  
  


_ He loved this wall.  _

  
  


The roughness of its surface brought inebriating sensations within him. Caressing it, he found himself whispering sweet nothings to the beautiful, concrete structure. His immense fascination for walls stemmed from countless years of memories together. 

He recalled those moments from his childhood, from when he attended a small seminary for young boys. The other youngsters in his class quickly formed an unconventional way of friendship with him. 

They spent their breaks together in a dark alley behind the school where they would play, mostly by forcibly bringing his poor, defenseless body against a concrete wall. They would one by one land their balled fists onto his body in a ruthless, brute manner. He would feel pain course through him, yet it did not stop him. It did not stop him from smiling as bright as he could. 

His dear friends, however, would not return his smile. Disgusted, they would hit him with more force until he could no longer stand. Once playtime was over, they would desert him, bloodied and bruised, as he leaned back on the concrete wall. It provided him solace, to have something to lean on. 

He did not quite understand why such games among his age group would be so...destructive and hurtful. However, it does not stop him from smiling. That’s what he had learned in this sort of game. 

_ You never stop smiling.  _

Coming home after a long day, he would cheerfully greet his mother, who seemed to have been cooking up his favorite meal, Jambalaya. The familiar scent had him salivating, causing him to grin even wider, despite the pain he felt from the swollen cheek he earned. 

Concerned by her son’s state, she swiftly brought him to a chair, tending to his bruises. Once she was done, she gestured for him to settle down to eat a warm, comforting meal. Before he could follow, however, they heard a loud slam, which made his mother flinch. Immediately, she ordered him to walk over to the farthest side of the room, facing the wall. 

It was his turn to worry, but he still did as he was told. He found himself in front of the wall on the other side of the room, the familiar concrete surface once again bringing him comfort. Soon, he heard screaming and shouting from across the room. His father must have gone home severely intoxicated again, and that never bode well for his mother, because the gruff, older man’s temper was at its worst when he was drunk. 

One after another, he heard slaps and punches that he knew landed on his mother, as he could hear her high-pitched groans and hacking cough. It sounded so painful that he cannot bring himself to not look. Slowly taking a peek, he saw his father brutally beating his mother. Her kind, beautiful mother taking hit after hit without fighting back. She never fought back. No. She only did one thing. 

_ She never stopped smiling.  _

To think this is how he had viewed the world, following in his mother’s footsteps. He loved his mother dearly, much so that when she told him that their father was not doing anything wrong, he believed her. However, when he saw blood trickle down her mouth and temples, he felt a pang in his heart. 

  
  


For a moment, his smile disappeared. 

  
  


When his mother saw this as she glanced at him from afar, she shook her head. She gave him a bigger smile, as if to signify that she was okay. For her sake, Alastor brought back the smile on his face, and turned back around to face the wall. 

Pressing his head against it, he closed his eyes and tried tuning out the horrid sounds coming from his parents’...exchange. Still trying to keep up his smile, yet unable to hold back the tears that were already streaming down his cheeks. 

This does not feel right. 

Years have passed and he already became a fine lad, always cheery with that iconic smile of his. His chiseled face and welcoming personality was quite the hit on the ladies, as he was almost able to charm each one that he encounters. This, however, was not taken nicely by the other lads that were his age. 

He was used to these sorts of tussles, most of which only came around due to simple misunderstandings. It was those dames that have shamelessly tried throwing themselves at him, but he did not share the same interests as they did. He cared not for those ladies. They were soft and easily hurt. They were weak; without a strong foundation, a simple push would be enough to send them crying. No, he does not find any affinity for such unattractive creatures. 

After a friendly tussle with trivial, jealous lads from his block, he finds himself leaning back on his beloved. Letting out a shaky sigh, he found himself slinking down. The other lads, he must admit, have a damn good arm on them, he brought a finger to his bruised lip, wiping off the blood. It was still the same old formula, with his ever-present smile still gracing his lips. 

Realizing how late it already was, he straightened himself up, gave his beloved wall a gentle caress of goodbye, and went on his way home. 

Expecting to see his wonderful mother’s heartwarming smile upon his arrival, he enthusiastically burst through their door. 

...Only to be met with the sight of his mother’s lifeless body, cold and severely bruised in a pool of her own blood. 

He wanted to shout. He wanted to cry. He wanted to break down into tiny little pieces just as his heart did upon seeing his own mother’s lifeless body before him. He wanted to do all that. 

  
  


_ But all he could do was smile.  _

  
  


He knew that it was the only thing his mother asked of him. She was an angelic woman who wanted nothing more than to bring love into their family. Heaven knows that she deserves a place up there where she would no longer feel pain. It was saddening that he would never get to meet her again. 

  
  


_ Because a demon was born that night.  _

  
  


No one knew how it all began, but a heartless monster was reported to wreak havoc in the once peaceful city of New Orleans. A serial killer was on the loose. Every night, the citizens feared falling victim into the merciless clutches of the gruesome murderer. 

The unsuspecting citizens tuned in to a certain radio station that was always the first to receive detailed reports on the victims. Alastor, a radio host beloved by many for his enrapturing voice and personality, quickly became a household name for his reassuring words, comforting the poor citizens after he reports about the latest New Orleans serial killer’s victims. 

  
  


Yet, little do they know that his beloved has witnessed it all. 

  
  


Loved by everyone at their station, Alastor always received a hefty amount of cheerful goodbyes whenever he left at the end of his shift. His smile always knew how to catch a dame’s heart, not like he wanted to. Their hearts meant nothing to him. 

Unless it was on a silver platter. 

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought. It was an acquired taste, although the first time he had such a meal wasn’t of the best flavor. He knew his father’s disgusting eating habits and addiction to liquor was never good for the body. After his old man’s “sudden” death, he was able to confirm such facts. 

As he neared his beloved’s location, he began scouting for his victim for the night. It never really mattered if it were a rich estate heir or a beautiful flapper girl or some nobody who was at the wrong place at the wrong time. All that mattered was the adrenaline that rushed through his veins whenever he saw his victims’ lifeless eyes, devoid of everything. It was thrilling, especially conducting the task in his favorite alley, right in front of his beloved wall. 

It was as if he was a lad trying to impress a dame by showing his strengths, that was all there is to it. 

However, as he arrived at said location, he noticed that there was already an unknown figure present. He didn’t think that a victim would willingly bring themselves to such a place like a moth to a flame. The alley was dark and dreary, the only light that shone was that of the moon’s. 

As he got closer, he squinted, trying to adjust his eyes to see the person better. It was a petite young woman with short, blonde hair and the rosiest cheeks he has ever seen, even under this dim lighting. 

She noticed his presence, giving a surprised yelp from the unexpected company. He flashed her a bright smile, as if to rid her of any worries or fear. “The name’s Alastor, sweetheart. A pleasure meeting you here.” he greeted, leaning against the wall. “What’s a lovely dame such as yourself doing in a place like this on a fine evening?” 

Uncertain of the man’s intentions, the woman slightly backed away, but still had her back pressed against the concrete wall as she sat. Playing with the hem of her dress, she looked away. “I...snuck out of my father’s party. They parade me around like a trophy daughter all evening, yet I only wish to be out of the limelight. I am not really one to want such attention, especially ones out of obligation.” 

“Why, with your beauty, I somehow understand your father’s motive to show you off!” he laughed, looking at her through the corners of his eyes. “Although, I do see the charm of having solitude on such a peaceful night.” 

“I’m pleased to hear you agree.” The pale, blonde belle gave a soft smile. “For a moment, I was scared that you’d be some ruffian I should be wary about, but you seem to carry an air of charm, yourself.” she commented, looking into his eyes and his ever-present grin. 

Chuckling, Alastor found himself idly caressing the wall. “It would be best for you not to judge so quickly, my dear.” he said with a low voice. “Demons might still run amok and tear that beautiful smile off your face. You should be more careful.” 

“Thank you for your concern.” She stood up and dusted off her clothes. “This place brings me a strange sense of comfort, somehow. Would you...mind if I come over here again, sometime?” 

“That would be a delightful thought.” he nodded as she faced her. Now that she had stood up, he noticed that there was a good gap between their heights. It was oddly endearing. 

Her smile made it all the more worse for him, he sensed a weird ache in his heart that he did not know if he wanted to feel. She held out her hand to him and spoke once more, “My name is Charlotte, but please, call me Charlie.” 

Taking her hand, he found himself gingerly kissing her knuckles. “A lovely name befitting you, my dear.” 

She gave a soft laugh, he swore it would probably be the only time he would hear an angel. They bid their goodbyes. Alastor had offered to walk her back, but she figured it would be best for her to go back herself so as not to cause a scandal. 

Once he was finally alone, he found himself leaning against his beloved wall, a strange feeling fluttering his insides. It was just as he felt whenever he pressed his face onto the concrete wall, a feeling of euphoria and comfort, and...a strange thirst he wished to satiate. 

He wanted to see more of this wallflower. 

And that he did, almost every night, he would meet Charlie at the same old alleyway. They exchanged countless stories about themselves, about their lives. They both shared a closeness to their mothers. They both had something passionate about. Alastor was passionate about his work as a radio host, while Charlie was passionate about her charity works. What endlessly amused Alastor was Charlie’s enthusiasm and optimism. 

Charlie’s faith in humanity was something that intrigued him so. Her latest charity work was this shelter and workshop for ex-convicts. Regardless if these scum were let out of prison for so-called changed behavior, society was still wise enough not to take them in for any form of work, noting that their past actions have marked them to forever be nothing but hoodlums. Yet, Charlie was there to bring them hope, by fostering them into her shelter and employing them for various projects that involved manual labor, an easy feat for such gruff lowlives. 

  
  


On this certain night, he wished to bring a smile upon her face by bringing a beautiful bouquet of roses. It reminded him of her rosy red cheeks, a feature that he found himself to grow fond of as the days have passed. He was starting to hold Charlie dear just as he did when it came to his beloved wall. 

Arriving at their usual spot earlier than usual, Alastor found himself pressing his whole body against the wall, taking in its scent and bringing his free hand to trail lovingly onto the rough surface. He always made sure that his beloved wall was kept in pristine shape, taking time to routinely wash it and make sure that no filth gets their hands on it. 

Alastor waited and waited...and waited. Reaching late into the night, he felt a pang of worry creep over him in the absence of his charming belle. Concluding that she must have had personal business she needed to attend to, he decided to return to his home. Tomorrow was another night. 

  
  


Allowing himself to think that the world would be so kind enough to a wretched sinner like him was a grave mistake. 

The morning after, he arrived at the radio station, greeted by the same old happy faces. He returned these with his signature smile, excited to give a rundown to the city of the day’s news. His boss had great faith in Alastor’s skills, much so that they didn't even need to bother giving him the reports for practice, as he always delivered each line clearly. 

Until today. 

  
  


When they finally signalled him that he was on air, he began reading out the headlines for the day. It was of the usual, the stock market crash bits filling him with uncalled for glee. However, he was put to a _harsh_ _halt_ on the last headline. 

  
  


_ “Magne Family Heiress Murdered by Ex-Convict” _

  
  


Professional as he tried to be, he pushed to continue his report, despite the unwanted, excruciating pain that he felt as he read through the details. “Last night, the Magne family heiress, Ms. Charlotte Magne, was...murdered by one of the ex-convicts she had taken in as an employee in her ‘Shelter and Workshop for The Changed’. No...further details are to be given upon the request of the Magne family, but...it was stated that the shelter was to be shut down immediately upon the order of the family.”

Ending his shift, he breezed through the goodbyes from his coworkers, still keeping up that smile, but with a little less life in his tone. Out of muscle memory, he found himself heading to his place of comfort. His beloved wall will surely provide him the feeling of comfort that he always needed. 

  
  


This was all too much for Alastor to take in a day. 

  
  


As he neared his favorite alleyway, there was an unbecoming smell that wafted through the air. The chalky sent was something he would usually catch sensing whenever he passed by areas under construction, the dust from cement evident. Then, he heard a loud thud and smash, possibly caused by striking a hard surface with a strong force. He felt his blood run cold. 

  
  


His special, beloved wall was being torn down. 

  
  


“NO!” he cried out, his desperate tone apparent. The three men who were breaking out of the building looked at him with both shock and confusion. They were in a hurry to run away, and they did not have time to deal with a lanky runt like this one. 

No one involved in that encounter survived that day. Not the criminals. Not the policemen. 

Not even Alastor. 

As he ran as far away as he could after taking the lives of the lowlives and the hypocrites, he found himself in a forest that was closely connected to the city. In his hurried escape, his hands still coated with blood, he found himself tumbling and tripping through the dark. 

  
  


This couldn’t be happening. 

  
  


He knew that scum like him never deserved such things like true happiness, but it wasn’t...it wasn’t supposed to be his time yet to be in such a situation. His beloved wall...and wallflower were gone. 

  
  


As he was gathering his thoughts, he heard a loud growl coming from his side. All of a sudden, a large hound pounced on him, biting at his bloodied hands, earning a sharp cry from him out of pain. With as much strength he could muster, he kicked the animal out of him, causing it to whimper. Quickly, he stood up, thinking of where to escape to once more. 

  
  


Only, it was too late. 

  
  


He heard the sound of a gun being cocked, and at that moment, he knew that it was over. Unbecoming of him, he was never one to be on the other side of things, to be a victim of a murder. He stood there, unable to move. He...was like a deer in the headlights. 

  
  


It only took one shot. One shot straight to the forehead. Wherever he was to head to, it definitely was where he deserved to be. To a world where all the damned are. 

  
  


But that was a story from long, long ago. 

  
  


Walking down his favorite, discreet alleyway, a certain red-clad deer demon softly hummed as he dragged a single finger along the wall. This particular alley was almost always deserted, albeit the trait mostly attributed to his intimidating nature and unspoken threats towards sinners who dared step foot on territory that he had claimed. 

Although, there were certain exceptions. 

  
  


“Al! There you were!” 

It was a petite young demon with long, blonde hair and the rosiest cheeks he has ever seen, even under the dreary, red-tinged lighting brought by the skies of Hell. 

  
  


In a graceful swoop, Alastor pinned the charming demon bell onto the beautiful, pristine wall. He smiled so bright, it was almost strangely warm and genuine.

  
  


_ “And here you are, my beloved wall...and wallflower.”  _

**Author's Note:**

> That's enough internet for me for today. I hoped you guys enjoyed this little interlude. This was really rushed, I just wanted to get the story out of my system so I could continue writing "Quarantine With Me Darling (Alastor x Reader)". Thanks for reading! <3


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